


Forged by Fire

by Crazy4Orcas



Series: Dog Days  AU [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: be_compromised, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mentioned Death of Very Minor Original Character, Nightmares About Fire, Oral Sex, Romance, Smut, mentions of cruelty to animals, mentions of fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 08:32:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy4Orcas/pseuds/Crazy4Orcas
Summary: Clint jerked awake, hoping the echo of the scream was only in his head.  He was dragging in huge, deep gulps of air.  His skin crawled, phantom pain racing across his palms and the backs of his hands.





	Forged by Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shenshen77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenshen77/gifts).



> This is based on one of [ shenshen77’s](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shenshen77/pseuds/shenshen77) (obishenshenobi on tumblr) prompts from an event at be_compromised: One of them is a service dog trainer, the other gets a service dog, they fall in love (I'm thinking both may be veterans and one of them needs a service dog to deal with PTSD, the other knows exactly what they need. But you can take it any place you like).
> 
> My undying thanks to [kiss_me_cassie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiss_me_cassie/pseuds/kiss_me_cassie) (cassiesinsanity on tumblr) for the beta, boundless encouragement, and pointing out my lack of oxford commas.
> 
> I’m calling this the Dog Days AU.

_Running, running, running, falling, falling. Smoke choked him, filled his nose and throat, burned his eyes, let in by the cracks in his mask. He crawled forward, desperate to reach the unmoving body just feet away. Frantic. He ripped his gloves off, dug his bare hands into the hot dirt and pine needles, feverishly clawed for anything that would give him traction. He couldn’t make any headway, the ground kept falling out from underneath him. The roar of the fire rang in his ears. It surrounded him with blistering, unbearable heat. Sparks rained down and danced around him, burning the backs of his hands. Above the deafening noise he heard something crack and he watched in mute horror as the burning trunk of a massive pine tree crashed down in front of him. He thought he heard himself scream again and again and again …_

Clint jerked awake, hoping the echo of the scream was only in his head. He was dragging in huge, deep gulps of air. His skin crawled, phantom pain racing across his palms and the backs of his hands. He swung his legs off the couch and scrubbed his hands through his hair as he sat up. Cold sweat coated his back and chest, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to his skin. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to rid himself of the residual images of the nightmare. He hauled in several slow breaths, trying to center himself and calm his racing heart. He needed to move, needed to get out of his apartment, needed to quit torturing himself this way.

He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the first shirt he could find, not caring if it was clean or not as long as it was dry. He pulled his damp shirt off and tugged on the dry one. After locating his jacket and keys, he was out the door and into the cool early morning air.

The neighborhood was quiet this early. The sky was just starting to show signs of the coming dawn. Clint walked with no particular destination in mind; he just wanted to be in motion.

A couple hollow clangs caught his attention and he turned toward the alleyway the noise had come from. He could just make out the shape of a person throwing something; quickly followed by a yip of pain. Clint saw a scraggly looking dog huddled against the side of a dumpster, cornered and shivering.

“Hey!” he called, surprising himself with the force behind the shout.

The figure turned his way and then took off in the opposite direction before Clint could get a good look at him. He made his way slowly toward the dumpster and crouched down a few feet away. He saw several rocks on the ground beside it; they must have clanged against the dumpster when the bully missed the dog. His blood boiled and something ugly churned in his stomach. Trying to keep his voice low and gentle, he called to the shaking dog.

“Hi there, you okay?” He whistled softly and held out his hand. “Come here. I won’t hurt you.”

The dog watched him warily. This close and with the increasing light of the morning, Clint could see that it looked to be some kind of Golden Retriever mix. He was absolutely filthy and was either missing an eye or it was severely damaged. Clint sat down and started to hum a random tune. Gradually, the dog’s shaking stopped and it made a couple of aborted starts toward him. After several long moments, almost as if it had received some kind of shock or push, the dog rushed over to him and tried to crawl into his lap.

Clint chuckled and carefully tried to keep the dog from licking his face, but it was a losing battle. He was finally able to calm the dog down enough to run his hands gently along its body and legs. The dog rolled over and Clint couldn’t help but rub its belly. He also noticed it was male. He couldn’t find any obvious injuries and was surprised that he didn’t seem to be overly malnourished. Now he just needed to decide what to do with him.

**********

No one was behind the counter height desk at the no-kill shelter he’d found after a quick search on his phone. The reception area was neat and clean; half a dozen chairs lined the wall across from the desk. Photographs of dogs, cats, and a few other animals, all with smiling people, were spilling over the edges of three bulletin boards underneath a sign that read ‘I’VE BEEN RESCUED!’ in bright blue letters.

Clint shuffled over to the counter, the dog plastered to his legs. He hadn’t left Clint’s side since he’d found him in that filthy alleyway. Clint hadn’t even had to find something to use as a leash; the dog just didn’t seem interested in wandering away from him.

A note on top of the desk told him to ‘ring the bell, we’re in the back’. He pressed the button and moments later a tall blond man came through a door behind the desk.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” the blond said and reached over the counter to offer Clint a handshake. He had a good, firm grip and a bright smile.

“Hi,” Clint replied. “Clint.”

“Nice to meet you, Clint. Are you here looking for a pet?”

Clint shook his head. “No, I found a stray. He seems pretty healthy, all things considered.” He gestured down to the floor and Steve leaned over the counter to see the dog sitting at Clint’s feet, pressed against him.

“Where did you find him?”

“Some asshole was throwing rocks at him in an alley a few blocks from here. I interrupted it and the guy ran off.”

Steve rounded the counter, knelt down and called to the dog. He ignored Steve and pressed closer to Clint. Steve came a little closer and held his hand out. Clint also knelt down and ruffled the dog’s ears, trying to reassure him. He finally sniffed at Steve’s hand and gave him a quick lick. Steve pet him for a few moments and stood.

“We can take him. We’ll get him cleaned up, feed him, make him comfortable. I’ve got to tell you though, it can take a while for adult dogs to find a good home. Most people are looking for puppies. And not everyone who comes in for a pet meets the requirements to pass our screening process.”

Clint looked down at the dog who was currently leaning into him, tongue lolling out of his mouth in pleasure as Clint continued to rub his head. He thought about his empty apartment, his empty days, and what was fast becoming his empty life. Something clenched in his chest at the thought of leaving him here.

“You know, Steve,” he said as he stood up. “I don’t … I don’t think I can leave him.”

Clint met Steve’s gaze and could read the understanding in his eyes.

**********

Several hours and a few hundred dollars later, Clint introduced Lucky to his new home. Steve had mentioned the dog was lucky Clint had been out walking that morning, and the name stuck.

After giving him a good meal, the two men had managed to wrestle a protesting Lucky into the bath at the shelter. He was now clean and smelled a whole lot better than when Clint had found him. Steve had also given him a quick once over, checking for injuries. It turned out he was missing his left eye but it looked to have healed over some time ago. Steve estimated Lucky was about four years old.

Clint had held his breath when Steve scanned Lucky for a microchip. He wouldn’t have been able to explain, even to himself, why the dog had become so important to him. But he already didn’t want to let him go. He’d been so much more relieved than he expected and let his breath out in a rush when no chip had been found. Steve had laughed at him, but not unkindly.

After filling out the required paperwork at the shelter, leaving a donation, and agreeing to bring Lucky back for updates, Clint’s next stop had been the veterinarian Steve had recommended.

Dr. Banner determined Lucky was in good health for a stray, if slightly underweight. The vet confirmed that Lucky had already been neutered and gave him some of his required shots. He’d taken blood samples and said he would call Clint when the results were back and they could make another appointment if necessary.

Clint opted to have a microchip placed. The look of betrayal on the dog’s face made him feel a little guilty but the feeling was replaced with brief embarrassment when Lucky made a pig of himself with the treats the vet gave him. Dr. Banner also gave Clint some recommendations for dog food and a good flea and tick repellant.

The trip to the pet supply store was hectic and Clint was grateful for the collar and leash Steve had given him. He bought a couple of the dog foods and a repellant Dr. Banner suggested along with some pig ears, a few varieties of treats, a dog brush, and half a dozen toys. He was relieved when Lucky didn’t seem to like any of the squeaky toys.

When they entered the apartment Lucky raced around, sniffing and inspecting everything. After a thorough investigation, he promptly jumped up on the couch and flopped down. He watched as Clint put his purchases away, tail wagging the whole time. When Clint finished, he sat on the couch beside Lucky. The dog immediately tried to crawl into his lap but gave up halfway when Clint gave him one of the pig ears.

Clint ran his hands through Lucky’s fur, soft now that it was clean and unmatted. He felt better than he had since the fire. Felt like he had accomplished something, done something good with his day. Seeing the transformation of the dog in his lap, he could make the argument that he had saved another life and that made the dark cloud that surrounded him these last months seem just the slightest bit brighter.

**********

_Running, running, running, falling, falling. Smoke choked him, filled his nose and throat, burned his eyes, let in by the cracks in his mask. He crawled forward, desperate to reach the unmoving body just feet away. Frantic. He ripped his gloves off, dug his bare hands into the hot dirt and pine needles, feverishly clawed for anything that would give him traction. He couldn’t make any headway, the ground kept falling out from underneath him. The roar of the fire rang in his ears. It surrounded him with blistering, unbearable heat. Sparks rained down and danced around him …_

Clint jerked awake when the sound of whining penetrated his nightmare. He groaned and pulled his hand back over the edge of the bed when something warm and wet slid over his palm. He pried his eyes open and saw Lucky sitting beside the bed, staring at him.

“Hey boy,” he said, voice scratchy.

Lucky responded by jumping to his feet and dancing in place, tail wagging wildly. Clint reached out and rubbed the dog’s head; Lucky immediately came closer and leaned against the bed. Clint buried his face in the soft fur and let the nightmare fade.

He decided he wasn’t going to be able to get back to sleep so he dragged himself out of bed and reached for the shirt he’d left at the foot of the bed the night before. It wasn’t there. He looked around the room but couldn’t find it. He set out to search the apartment and finally found it in the living room, or rather he found what was left of it. Pieces of t-shirt littered the floor and couch. The dog toys he’d bought were torn apart. The legs of his coffee table showed signs of having been chewed on. There was a suspicious looking wet spot on the corner of his arm chair. The opposite side had been ripped into and stuffing was strewn about the room.

Lucky sat beside him and leaned against his leg. Clint looked down at him. The dog’s tongue was lolling out of what looked like a huge grin.

“You had a good time last night, huh boy?”

Lucky just kept grinning.

**********

The next several days followed pretty much the same pattern with few exceptions. Clint lost four and a half pairs of socks, two pairs of boxers, eight new dog toys, one shoe, and had to take his arm chair to the dump.

Lucky did seem to have learned his name, or at least he came when Clint called it and whistled. Getting Lucky to come to him didn’t seem to be a problem. Clint couldn’t go anywhere without the dog following on his heels. It made taking him for walks a little easier, but Lucky still pulled on the leash and tried to chase after anything that caught his eye. He seemed especially taken with squirrels.

On one of their longer walks, they stopped in at the shelter to see if Steve was there. The woman behind the counter, Sharon, as she’d introduced herself, came around the counter to coo over Lucky.

“Steve told me about you guys,” she said as she scratched behind Lucky’s ears. The dog scooted closer to her, tail wagging a mile a minute. “How’s he getting along?”

“Good,” Clint replied. “The vet says he’s healthy, just a little underweight. And that can’t last for long, he eats _everything_. He seems to have developed a taste for socks.”

Sharon laughed and squished the fur around Lucky’s face. “You’re a chewer, huh?” she asked him.

Steve came through the door in the back and smiled when he saw Clint. “Hey Clint, Lucky. How are things going?”

“Clint was just telling me that Lucky’s eating everything,” Sharon said as she stood up. Lucky pulled on the leash and Clint gave him some slack so he could lean up against her. She idly ran her fingers across his head as he looked up at her adoringly.

“He’s been a little destructive,” Clint said. “I had to get rid of a chair he ripped apart and kept peeing on. He seems to know his name though, but doesn’t respond to any commands. Well, I don’t know if he knows ‘come’ or not, but he does come when I call him and whistle.”

Steve turned to Sharon, “Do you know if Natasha has any openings?”

“I think she does,” Sharon answered. “I know she just finished with that Greyhound mix we placed.”

Steve reached over the counter and came back with a flyer that he handed to Clint. “Natasha Romanoff. She’s a marvel at training dogs. And owners. She doesn’t just train your dog for you, she works with both of you together so you learn how to work with each other. Give her a call and set up an appointment.”

“Thanks,” Clint said and meant it. “I think I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

Clint and Lucky got their picture taken to add to the ‘I’VE BEEN RESCUED!’ boards, and left a short while later.

**********

Clint pulled up a few minutes early at the address on the flyer and parked next to a black Jeep. He’d been expecting something in a small strip mall or commercial building, not the residential area his GPS directed him to. The cottage was neat and well maintained with a riot of colorful wildflowers in big pots and hanging baskets on the wide front porch. A low fence surrounded the front yard. Through the gate of a taller fence at the side of the house, he could see what looked like an agility course in the backyard.

Clint rolled down the windows, ruffled Lucky’s ears and told him to stay before climbing out of his truck. He closed the door and told Lucky to stay again, hoping the dog would listen. If the last week was anything to go by, he wouldn’t.

He approached the front gate but before he could put a hand on the latch, a huge Rottweiler rounded the corner of the house from the back. The massive dog ran up to the gate, sat down, licked its chops and barked at him, just once. Lucky started madly barking from the truck and Clint turned in time to see him scramble out of the driver’s window and race toward the fence. Clint barely managed to grab his collar and stop him before he could try climbing the fence to get to the Rottweiler, who was still sitting calmly, tongue lolling out of the grin on its face.

“What do you think you’re doing, huh? That guy could eat you for breakfast,” Clint admonished the whining dog wriggling at his feet. Lucky kept pulling against Clint’s hold but thankfully stopped barking.

He was able to pull Lucky back to the truck so he could grab a leash through the window. He clipped it on, squatted down, and took Lucky’s head in his hands, gently rubbing his ears. “You’re a mess, Lucky. But you’re my mess. No more street life for you, but you gotta learn some manners, boy.”

Clint briefly hugged Lucky to him then stood up to head back to the house. He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She was standing at the gate next to the Rottweiler, the dog leaning against her leg and looking up at her as if she were its whole world. Clint felt a brief flash of jealousy. Her red hair was pulled back into a long braid and by the slight smirk on her face and the glint in her green eyes, he guessed she found him amusing.

“You must be my afternoon appointment. Lucky and Clint?” Her voice was low and smoky and did something pleasant to his guts.

“Yeah, that’s me, uh … us,” he replied. Lucky had circled him and Clint took a moment to unwind the leash from around his legs. “Steve from the shelter gave me your flyer. Said you were the best. And I need help, Ms. Romanoff.”

Lucky took the opportunity to put his front paws up on the fence and bark a few times at the Rottweiler, his tail wagging furiously. Clint tugged him down with a stern ‘no’; Lucky just looked at him and sloppily licked his hand. Clint scowled and wiped the slobber off on his jeans.

Ms. Romanoff chuckled as she opened the gate and stepped back to let them in. The Rottweiler stood up and walked beside her as she led the way to the backyard and closed both gates behind them.

“Why don’t you let Lucky off the leash, let him run around a bit,” she said and gestured for him to sit in one of a pair of red Adirondack chairs on a sprawling stone patio facing the agility course.

Clint looked warily at the Rottweiler who had lain at her feet when she sat down.

“He won’t bother Atlas; she’s used to other dogs. Even ones with no manners,” she said with a grin as she scratched Atlas’s head. The dog closed her eyes and sighed, obviously enjoying the attention.

Clint unhooked Lucky’s leash and had barely gotten out a quick ‘behave’ before Lucky took off to explore. He raced across the yard, tearing circles around each stage of the agility course. Clint groaned and covered his eyes as Lucky skid to halt, sniffed at a teeter-totter, lifted his leg and peed to mark the wooden post.

“Ms. Romanoff, I’m sorry…” he started before she interrupted him with a laugh.

“Don’t worry about it; he’s a dog, that’s what they do.” She was smiling and Clint was struck again by how beautiful she was. “And please, call me Natasha.”

“Natasha,” he repeated, warmth spreading in his chest. “And I’m Clint. Well, you knew that already, but I mean, call me Clint.”

She was still smiling at him and Clint was lost. Her green eyes sparkled with amusement and Clint didn’t care that she might be laughing at him. The moment was broken when Lucky came charging up to them, running into Clint’s legs before flopping down beside Atlas. He rolled over on his back and licked at her face. Atlas let out a low growl and quickly looked up at Natasha.

“It’s okay, girl. You can let him know you don’t like that.” She reached into a basket beside her and pulled out a pig ear, waving it in Clint’s direction. “Is he a chewer or a gulper?”

Clint snorted. “Chewer, believe me. And he loves those.”

“Lucky,” Natasha called. His ears perked and he jumped at Natasha, snapping at the pig ear. She was too quick for him though. She caught hold of his collar, firmly took him back down to all fours and calmly said ‘no’. Lucky whined but didn’t make to jump at her again. Natasha raised the ear above his nose, pushed his butt down and said ‘sit’ in a no nonsense tone. Lucky sat for just a second before his butt popped back up, tail waving madly. Natasha gave him the treat and he tore off again, lay down next to a curved yellow tube, and went to town chewing at the ear.

“But … he barely sat,” Clint sputtered, a little astonished.

“But he did sit,” Natasha said. “He got the gist of it and he’ll learn. And so will you.”

She reached into the basket again and gave Atlas her own pig ear after having the dog give her a ‘high five’ and a ‘shake’.

“So, Clint, are you ready to teach Lucky some manners?”

**********

The twice-weekly lessons with Natasha quickly became the highlight of Clint’s days. Lucky was making real progress. They had started with the basics – sit, stay, down, and heel. Lucky’s biggest improvement so far was his manners on the leash. He didn’t pull Clint along anymore and even though squirrels still distracted him, he didn’t try to chase after them.

Clint found he thoroughly enjoyed working with Natasha. She was patient and nothing seemed to faze her. He caught the end of one of her other sessions and saw her calmly handle an exuberant Mastiff that kept trying to jump on her. She also had a wicked sense of humor. He noticed he was smiling and laughing more than he had in months. Since the fire.

He enjoyed his homework with Lucky too. He was pouring a lot of time and energy into him and the dog was thriving. He’d put on the pounds Dr. Banner said he needed and his coat shone with health. Clint had always liked animals, dogs in particular. He’d never really thought he would ever have one, but couldn’t be more thankful that Lucky had found his way into his life.

Clint had also started volunteering at the shelter a few days a week. He was able to take Lucky with him and both Sharon and Steve commented on how much better the dog looked and behaved. Lucky seemed to enjoy showing off his new found talents too, especially when offered his favorite treats. He’d gotten the hang of ‘shake’ and ‘high five’ but was hit-and-miss on ‘roll over’.

The idea of going back to work started to filter into Clint’s thoughts and it didn’t send him into a panic. Chief Fury had called a few times since Clint had gone on extended leave and kept dropping not-so-subtle hints that he needed to get back to work. He didn’t think he was ready to go out on any active calls just yet, but knew there was always work to be done around the firehouse. The idea of becoming an instructor was appealing too, but he didn’t think he wanted to go that route just yet. He’d let Fury know that he wasn’t quite ready, but he’d be the first to know.

**********

“Why Atlas?” Clint asked one afternoon after his and Lucky’s lesson with Natasha. They had fallen into the habit of spending some time after lessons just talking and letting the dogs run around. Lucky seemed intent on getting Atlas to play with him, but so far she was resisting his charms. They were sitting on Natasha’s back patio, each with a bottle of beer, the Rottweiler’s head in his lap, her eyes closed and tail wagging lazily as he scratched behind both ears. “You a fan of Greek mythology?”

“Look in her right ear,” Natasha told him.

He looked and found a clumsy tattoo that read “A-145” in scrawled print. He turned back to Natasha with a question on the tip of his tongue, but she spoke before he could put voice to it.

“She was rescued from a puppy mill. By the time it was shut down she was pregnant with her seventh litter. I took her in as a foster until the puppies were weaned, but I just fell in love with her. This mill actually kept pretty decent records, all of the breeding dogs had tattoos for identification. It looked a little like ‘Atlas’ and it felt right. To make a name from the number.”

Clint had heard about puppy mills, how awfully the dogs were treated. He looked down at the huge dog with her head in his lap and couldn’t imagine how anyone could mistreat such a sweet tempered animal; or any animal for that matter. He thought of the squalid conditions he’d found Lucky in. It made him sick to his stomach to think of what could have happened to either dog if circumstances had been different.

“What happened to her puppies?”

“All the dogs were checked out then sent to a few different rescue agencies. Thankfully none of them needed to be euthanized. The pregnant mothers were fostered until they had their litters and the puppies weaned, then they were spayed. The studs were neutered. Steve helped find good homes for a lot of them, including Atlas’s ten puppies.”

“Ten? That must have been something,” Clint laughed.

Natasha laughed with him, eyes full of amusement. “They were adorable. Black and tan roly poly balls of energy. Atlas was very patient and attentive with them, but she seemed so relieved when it was just the two of us.”

Lucky came barreling up to them but stopped shy of running into Atlas. He dropped a tennis ball at Clint’s feet and barked once. Clint picked it up and threw it for him.

“Um,” he started, looking at Natasha as she watched the dog race across the yard. She turned to him and he could feel a spark between them, something exciting and familiar at the same time. It had been building for weeks.

Clint started again. “Lucky wanted to know if you and Atlas would like to go out with us sometime.”

“Lucky wanted to know?” She grinned at him and he nodded. “I think Atlas would like that.”

**********

Clint picked them up the following Saturday afternoon and they went to the dog park in town. It was a leash free park and there were already half a dozen dogs running around. A group of four people, two men and two women, were seated at a picnic table watching them. Natasha picked out a table and they sat down to watch the dogs play. Clint had brought cold drinks for them and water for the dogs.

Atlas came over after a couple of laps around the park and laid down at Natasha’s feet. Lucky was still running and playing with the other dogs. Clint kept an eye on him and threw a ball for him a few times, but Lucky seemed more interested in socializing with the other dogs. He did come over to try and get Atlas to join them and she did once but returned to Natasha fairly quickly.

The conversation and laughter flowed freely. He felt more at ease with Natasha than he ever had with anyone else. They talked about anything and almost everything; Clint kept the talk away from his job, away from the fire. He learned a little about Natasha’s childhood in Russia, her love for animals, and how she started training. He shared with her stories of growing up in the circus, how he and Barney had run away from the orphanage to join. He found the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted to spend with her.

One of the other owners had gotten up to toss a few balls for the dogs. Lucky joined in and seemed to be having a good time. Clint didn’t see exactly what happened but suddenly there was a loud clanging noise, followed by Lucky howling and yipping. It was a fear filled sound. The dog was running full tilt toward Clint with his tail between his legs. He and Natasha got a few steps toward the group when Lucky reached them. Clint dropped to his knees and Lucky buried himself in his arms, shaking and whimpering.

“Clint?” Natasha asked, voiced filled with concern. “Is he okay?” She knelt down next to them and placed a hand on Clint’s shoulder, but didn’t touch Lucky.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe the dog. He held him close to his chest and ran his hands gently over him. Lucky had stopped whimpering but still shook with fear.

The guy who had been throwing the ball approached but stopped in his tracks when Atlas came between him and the group on the ground. She didn’t move toward him but growled deep in her chest. It was extremely intimidating.

“Atlas, sit,” Natasha commanded firmly and she sat immediately. Natasha looked up at the newcomer and smiled briefly. “Sorry about that, she seems to be a little protective.”

“Hey, no problem,” he replied. “I just wanted to make sure your Golden was okay. I don’t know what happened. He was playing just great with our dogs and then started howling.”

“I think it might have been whatever that noise was,” Clint said. “When I found him some jerk was throwing rocks at him and occasionally hitting a dumpster. The sounds were similar.”

“That’s just sick,” the guy said and took a tentative step forward, looking warily at Atlas.

“Atlas, down,” Natasha said. “He’s okay.”

The Rottweiler lay down but kept a sharp eye on him.

“Thanks,” he said and held out his hand. “Name’s Sam.”

Natasha shook his hand and introduced herself and Clint. “Sorry about the excitement,” she added.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sam replied. “Just glad he’s okay. Hey, would you guys like to join us?”

**********

They had a good time with Sam and his friends. Lucky was plastered to Clint for a little while but with some coaxing he eventually went back to playing with the other dogs. Sam and his friends were a fun group and they all agreed to try and make Saturday afternoons at the park a standing date.

On the walk back to his truck, Clint bought himself and Natasha ice cream and they sat on a bench in the sun enjoying their cones. He found himself fixated on watching Natasha eat her ice cream. He was so distracted by her mouth, he didn’t pay attention to his own cone and the scoop of ice cream fell, bounced off his lap and onto the ground. Lucky immediately sprang to Clint’s aid and cleaned it up for him. Natasha ended up letting Atlas finish the last of her cone, since she’d looked a little jealous of Lucky.

Clint was reluctant to bring the date to an end, but he had an early meeting the following morning at the fire station, even though it was a Sunday. He was ready to go back to the job but his insides still twisted up at the thought.

“I don’t really want today to end,” he admitted, watching closely for Natasha’s reaction. She gave him a small smile and he thought he saw a slight blush on her cheeks.

“I don’t either.” She reached out for his hand and laced their fingers together. He gave her hand a squeeze. He felt his heart rate kick up as Natasha bit her lower lip, it was adorably sexy.

“How about we pick up something for dinner and take it back to my place?” She suggested quickly, as if she needed to get it out before she changed her mind.

“I’d love that,” he said with a smile and his heart rate kicked up again.

**********

They picked up a couple of pizzas on the way back to Natasha’s. Clint was appalled that she actually liked Hawaiian pizza. He was a pepperoni and sausage guy, he didn’t do vegetables or fruit on his pizza.

While Natasha got drinks from the kitchen, Clint took a moment to wander around the living room. This was the first time he’d been in the house, they usually spent their time out on the back patio. The room was comfortable, done in muted natural colors. The thing that immediately caught his attention was the floor to ceiling wall of shelves packed with books. There were books in a variety of languages, a few of which he couldn’t identify. Of the titles he could read, he recognized a lot of the classics, a few animal training instructionals, and surprisingly, a wide variety of spy thrillers. Ludlum and Le Carre seemed to be favorites, along with an author he’d never heard of, T. C. Hawke.

They made themselves comfortable on her leather sofa with the pizzas and a couple of beers laid out on the coffee table in front of them. She had turned on the stereo and soft Spanish guitar played while they ate.

Clint set his plate on the table and wiped the grease off his hands when he was done with his pizza. He picked up a book from the table, ’The Woman in the Crosshairs’ by T. C. Hawke.

“He any good?” he asked as he thumbed through the book.

“He’s excellent,” Natasha replied. “I have everything he’s written and reread them occasionally.”

He had stopped on the dedication page and read ‘To my Russian, who told me to write only good things.’ “His Russian, huh. It’s not you is it?”

“Nyet.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, took the book from him and set it back on the table. She traced a finger over the back of his hand, over the faint scars there, but didn’t say anything. Clint turned his hand over and twined their fingers together. He met her eyes and time seemed to stop. As if in slow motion, she leaned into him and tugged him toward her.

Clint raised his free hand to her face and lightly stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. She licked her lips and his gaze was drawn to her mouth. She tugged him even closer and he slid his hand back into her hair, down to the nape of her neck. His eyes slipped closed and he heard a soft sigh, he wasn’t sure if it was his or Natasha’s.

The first touch of their lips was electric. Her hand tightened on his as she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opened to her, their tongues sliding together. Clint groaned. He could taste the faint tang of pineapple in the kiss.

Clint lost track of time. He dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer. Her arms curled around his neck and shoulder. Kiss after kiss after kiss, sensual and sweet. They were both breathing heavily when they were interrupted by the sound of a pizza box hitting the floor.

Lucky was scarfing down the last of the pepperoni and sausage pizza while Atlas looked disapprovingly at him. Clint reluctantly eased away from Natasha and ran a hand through his hair. He was a little fuzzy headed and couldn’t get his mind off the feel of her against him. As she got up to get the box away from Lucky, he scrubbed his hands over his face and got up to take their dishes to the kitchen.

After cleaning up, Natasha walked Clint to the door. She tugged him down to her for a lingering kiss goodnight.

“I had a great time today,” she said as she pulled away from him. “We need to do this again soon.”

“Next weekend?”

“It’s a date.”

**********

_Running, running, running, falling, falling. Smoke choked him, filled his nose and throat, burned his eyes, let in by the cracks in his mask. He crawled forward, desperate to reach the unmoving body just feet away. Frantic. He ripped his gloves off, dug his bare hands into the hot dirt and pine needles …_

A bark caused Clint to jerk awake. Lucky was standing at the side of the bed with his head resting next to Clint’s arm. Clint grunted and blearily looked at his phone. It was six o’clock, really too late to try and get back to sleep before heading to the firehouse. He sat up, reached out, and gave the dog a vigorous rub down as Lucky danced and tried to lick him.

“You ready for a walk, huh boy?”

Lucky raced out of the bedroom and back several times before Clint got dressed and grabbed the leash.

**********

Clint got home after his meeting with Chief Fury and found a disaster in his apartment. As soon as he stepped in the door, Lucky barreled into him and knocked him off balance. The dog’s whining and crying were near deafening. Clint closed the door and sank to the floor so Lucky could crawl into his lap. He made comforting nonsense noises and rubbed up and down the dog’s back. It was long moments before Lucky calmed down but he continued to shake.

“Hey,” Clint said to him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Lucky whined again and licked Clint’s face. They spent a few more minutes on the floor, Clint petting him the whole time.

He took the opportunity to survey the damage to the apartment. The shredded remains of the comforter off his bed were strewn around everywhere. He looked into the kitchen and could see the overturned trash can, the cabinet under the sink where it was kept was wide open. Garbage littered the floor. His boots, normally stowed by the door, were under the coffee table and appeared to have been chewed and drooled on. The coffee table itself had been swept clear and magazine pages covered the living room. Clint didn’t want to think about what had gone on in his bedroom.

Lucky had stopped shaking and seemed to have recovered his wits. Clint couldn’t bring himself to be upset with him. He knew Lucky stuck close to him, it just hadn’t occurred to him that leaving the dog alone would be so disastrous. Clint wondered if Natasha would have any tips for him to make Lucky feel secure when he wasn’t around.

As if the thought of her had prompted it, his phone rang and he saw it was Natasha calling.

“Hi,” he answered it, warmth spreading in his chest. His day had just gotten brighter.

“Hi, Clint,” Natasha said. “How are you?”

“Well, _I’m_ fine. But my apartment has seen better days.”

“What happened?” she asked, concerned.

“I had to leave Lucky here by himself and I think he’s got some separation anxiety. The place has been trashed.”

“Can I help with anything? I can bring lunch over and help you clean up.”

The thought of seeing Natasha won out over his reluctance to have her see the mess his apartment had become. “That sounds fantastic.”

“Can I bring anything else over?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got a good variety of cleaning supplies, I had to stock up when Lucky first moved in.”

**********

Natasha showed up about an hour later with Atlas, Thai take-out, and beer from a local microbrewery. Clint took the bags from her and before he could turn to the kitchen she had her arms wrapped around his waist. She tilted her face up to him and grinned. He smiled and leaned down to give her a kiss. She opened her mouth to him and the kiss heated quickly, pleasure curling in his belly. Clint couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands full. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her tight against him, but the bags were too awkward. Natasha pulled away from him with a laugh and he followed, trying for another kiss.

She put a hand on his chest and he stopped. “Not so fast, hot sauce. Eat now, then clean. Making out will come later.”

Clint feigned a pout but really liked the fact that she’d said ‘ _will_ come later.’

“Is that a promise?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, turning him around and giving him a push toward the kitchen. Atlas was exploring the apartment and Lucky was bouncing along behind her.

After they finished lunch, they started the cleanup. With both of them working, it didn’t take long to put the apartment back together. When Clint came back from taking a couple of bags of trash down to the dumpster, he found Natasha playing fetch with Lucky, Atlas looking on. Lucky chased after the ball and came dancing over to Clint with it. Clint took it from him and tossed it down the short hallway and he raced after it.

“How long were you gone this morning?” Natasha asked as she went into the kitchen and got a beer out of the refrigerator. She held out a bottle to him. “You want one?”

“Please,” Clint replied and flopped down on the couch. He picked up the ball Lucky had brought back to him and tossed it again. “I was out for about three and a half hours. I really didn’t think he’d be so destructive, we were making such good progress.”

“Is this is the first time you’ve left him alone that long?” Natasha asked as she came in with the beers and sat down next to him. They clinked their bottles together.

“Yeah. Until today the longest he’s been on his own is half an hour, maybe forty-five minutes. Just long enough for me to run down to the grocery store and back.”

Clint took a long pull from his bottle. “And I’m not sure where to go from here. I was hoping you’d have some ideas.” 

“We can work on it, if you don’t mind leaving him with me occasionally.”

“Sure, especially if it gives me an excuse to see you more often,” he said with a fleeting smile. Clint took a deep breath and steadied himself. “I’m going back to work next week and hadn’t thought that leaving him would be a problem.”

Lucky was back again with the ball and Natasha tossed it for him.

“You’re going back to work?” she asked and Clint almost felt sick, a hard knot of tension settling in his stomach and chest. He set his beer on the coffee table and rubbed his hands on his jeans.

“Yeah,” he croaked and cleared his throat. He knew he would have to tell Natasha about the fire eventually, but had hoped it would wait. “I’m a wildland firefighter.”

He couldn’t look at her. His hands clenched and the silvery scars on the backs stood out. Natasha reached out and took one of his hands, placed it in her lap and gently ran her fingers across the scars.

“You don’t have to tell me …” she started but Clint interrupted her.

“No, I want you to know.” He took another deep breath. “There was a bad fire last season up near Yosemite, careless backpackers and a campfire. We were called in to help the locals. It was …” He paused, not sure how to explain the blistering heat, the deafening roar, the blinding light. “… terrifyingly alive.”

He couldn’t get anything else out, it was as if his throat had closed up and he was choking on phantom smoke that talking about the fire kindled. Natasha held his hand tightly. Lucky brought his ball back but dropped it before pushing his way between Clint’s legs to lick his hand and lay his head on Clint’s lap. Atlas came closer and pressed against his leg. Something in him tightened and slowly eased as he gripped Natasha’s hand tighter and ran a hand over Lucky’s head until the dog closed his eyes and sighed.

“My partner, Matt, and I got cut off when the wind shifted suddenly. Matt … he didn’t make it. I … I couldn’t get to him.”

“Clint,” Natasha whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He could hear the anguish in her voice. She let go of his hand and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him. He pressed his face into her hair and breathed in the scent of her. She ran a hand up and down his back, stroking gently. Lucky crawled halfway into his lap, forcing his way between them. He felt Atlas licking his hand. Clint clung to them and drank in the solace they offered. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but there was no place he’d rather be.

**********

_Running, running, running, falling, falling. Smoke choked him, filled his nose and throat, burned his eyes …_

Something cold and wet against his neck woke Clint up. Lucky was grinning at him and dancing in place when he opened his eyes. He rubbed the dog’s head and chuckled when Lucky’s tail started thumping against the floor.

“You’re getting good at that, aren’t you boy?”

Clint stretched and glanced at his phone, it was still early enough to try and get a couple more hours of shut eye. He told Lucky to lay down and fell back to sleep with his arm over the side of the bed, his hand resting on the dog’s back.

**********

They had made arrangements for Clint to leave Lucky at Natasha’s for a couple of hours after their lesson. Lucky was ecstatic to see him when Clint picked him up the first time, dancing, whining, and wagging his tail a mile a minute. Natasha said he moped for a time when Clint left, but perked up pretty quickly when she let the dogs outside to run around before her next lesson.

The second afternoon he left Lucky, he stopped by the firehouse to confirm his upcoming schedule and shot the shit with a couple of the guys from his company. They were glad he was coming back and looking forward to working with him again. He was carrying around the fear that they blamed him for Matt’s death and the time spent with them dissipated that fear. He’d left the firehouse feeling immeasurably better than when he’d arrived.

Then he did his grocery shopping and after putting everything away, found himself at loose ends with nothing to do. He settled in front of the TV with a beer and an old _Columbo_ rerun. It hit him suddenly that for the first time in a long time, he was comfortable in his own skin, comfortable with his own company. He wasn’t dreading the next few days, wasn’t overly apprehensive about going back to the job, and he wasn’t worried about going to sleep and waking up in a panic from the nightmare.

He _was_ absolutely looking forward to seeing Natasha again. She was a woman he could see himself with long term, permanently if he was totally honest with himself. Something about them just clicked. He would forever be grateful to Steve for giving him that flyer.

He decided to surprise her by bringing over dinner after her last lesson of the day. He sent her a quick text to make sure she didn’t have other plans. He knew he had a dopey smile on his face when she texted back that she didn’t and ended her message with a heart and a kissing face emoji.

Clint picked up pork vindaloo at his favorite Indian restaurant and showed up at Natasha’s right as her last client of the day was pulling away. She was standing by the gate waiting for him, Atlas sitting calmly next to her. Lucky was dancing in a circle, tail wagging and whining at him.

“Have a good lesson?” he asked as he got out of the truck with their dinner. Clint knew she particularly enjoyed this pair of clients. An active Border Collie mix and his teenaged owner, Peter, were working on the agility course. Natasha was having a great time with both of them as they were enthusiastic and quick learners.

“Yes,” she replied, grinning, and opened the gate for him. “Peter got Spider through a clean round for the first time.”

“Good for the kid, it must have been due to his excellent instructor.” Clint set the take-out down and squatted so Lucky could greet him. The dog had gotten much better at not jumping on people. After he had thoroughly inspected and greeted Clint, Lucky took off for the backyard. He raced back, ran a circle around Atlas, and raced off again. Atlas actually chased after him.

When Clint stood up with the bag in hand, Natasha was right in front of him. She hugged him tight and he returned it with his free arm. After a moment, he tugged gently on her braid to tilt her face up to his. He kissed her lightly and smiled against her mouth, he could feel her return smile.

“You know,” he said squeezing her against him briefly, “you promised me some making out the other day.”

“I did, didn’t I?” she said and kissed him again, sliding her tongue into his mouth and running it along his. She tasted like the citrus seltzer she preferred to drink during lessons, sweet and a little tart. Clint pulled her tighter against him and the kiss quickly intensified. Natasha ran her hands through his hair and heat curled in his belly.

Working purely on instinct, he went to wrap his other arm around her and banged the take-out bag into her hip. Natasha broke the kiss with a laugh and stepped back from him.

“Let’s eat,” she said and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

**********

After they finished their vindaloo and cleaned up, they took a bottle of wine out on the patio and Clint got a fire going in the fire pit. The sky was clear and the stars were diamond bright. Lucky and Atlas were settled, happily chewing on pig ears. The night was peaceful; the only sounds to be heard were the chirping of crickets and the dogs chomping.

Clint had moved the Adirondacks closer together so he could hold Natasha’s hand. They sat in comfortable silence and could have been the only two people in the world. He was rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand and enjoying how her skin felt under his touch. She shivered a little and he looked to see if she was cold.

Natasha was already watching him and something sparked when their eyes met. She set her glass of wine down, got up, and came to stand in front of him, still holding his hand. She looked down at him and he could practically feel the heat in her gaze. He tugged on her hand and she gracefully sank down into the chair with him. It should have been awkward but she fit against him perfectly. Their joined hands were behind her back and she wrapped her free arm around his shoulder and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

Clint’s heart started beating faster, his pulse raced; he wanted her so, so badly. He slowly slid his free hand under her shirt at the small of her back. Her skin was soft and warm as he stroked it. She shivered again, scooted closer, and pressed a kiss to his temple. Then another by his ear, another at the corner of his eye, and another on the tip of his nose. She nuzzled her nose against his and lowered her mouth to his, stopping just short of contact. It was his turn to shiver.

She moved that last little bit and Clint would swear later that the earth shook, the kiss was so intense. He opened to her immediately and they both moaned when their tongues touched. He slid his hand further up her back and pulled her closer to him. The kiss took on a life of its own, hot and wet, and made his toes curl.

Natasha pushed even closer, her breasts pressing into his chest and his dick twitched. He fiddled with the clasp on her bra and she let out a little gasp, pulling away from his mouth. She let go of his hand and Clint’s breath caught when she reached for the hem of her shirt.

She’d just started to lift her shirt, and Clint caught a brief glimpse of pale skin, when the dogs raised a ruckus at the tunnel on the agility course. One dog was at each end of the tunnel, both whining and woofing. They could also hear faint growling and hissing from inside the tunnel. Natasha tugged her shirt back down and gave Clint a quick kiss.

“Sorry,” she whispered and Clint heard the sincerity in her voice. She crawled off his lap and he followed her over to the dogs. She knelt down and looked in the tunnel after having Atlas sit a few feet away. Clint took hold of Lucky’s collar and looked in the other end.

There was a bedraggled black cat in the middle of the tunnel, hissing and spitting at each of them in turn. Drops of blood trailed from Clint’s end to where the little cat was crouched.

“What should we do?” he asked Natasha. “It’s obviously hurt.”

“I’ve got a carrier in the house,” she replied, concern coloring her voice. “Let’s see if we can’t get her in it and take her to the emergency vet. Poor thing, she must be terrified.”

The cat may have been injured and bleeding, but she still put up a hell of a fight when they tried getting her into the carrier. Clint eventually caught her by the scruff of the neck but not before garnering a few scratches.

They spent the next hour at the vet’s. Dr. Banner was the on-call vet that night and while he was happy to hear about the progress Lucky was making, he wasn’t at all happy about the cat’s condition.

“Somebody’s shot her at least twice with a BB gun,” Bruce told them, disgust clear in his tone. “I think she’ll be okay in several days, once I dig them out of her. She’s a feisty little thing.”

Natasha left her contact information with Bruce and he promised to keep her updated on the cat’s condition. Clint had the sneaking suspicion Natasha’s household was about to get a little bigger.

Clint drove her back home and they spent several long, pleasant moments kissing goodnight on her front porch. When Lucky tugged on Clint’s jacket and barked, they both laughed and Clint pressed his forehead to hers.

“Let me take you to dinner Friday night, just the two of us,” he said, hopeful.

“I’d love that,” she replied and lightly kissed him again.

**********

They pulled up in front of Natasha’s place after a fantastic dinner. Clint had surprised her by taking them to a well-known Russian restaurant in the next town over. He’d insisted she order for them both and thoroughly enjoyed the meal and her company.

The interior of the truck was dark and cozy. The radio played classic rock turned down low. He shut the engine off and turned to Natasha, she was truly stunning. He’d practically swallowed his tongue earlier as she’d opened the door for him when he’d picked her up. He’d only ever seen her in casual clothes and the dress she’d chosen for their date was an absolute knockout, black and curve-hugging.

“I really had a good time tonight,” he said, smiling at her.

She had her hair up in an intricate twist with several tendrils loose and framing her face. His hands were itching to reach out and trail down her exposed neck. He knew her skin was as soft as it looked and he wanted to feel it again.

“I did too,” she replied with a soft smile. “I’m glad _you_ finally asked me out, not Lucky.”

She licked her lips and Clint’s gaze was drawn to her mouth. Natasha unhooked her seat belt and before Clint could do more than raise a hand to try and stop her from getting out of the truck, she was leaning over the center console. She placed a palm on his cheek and drew him to her. He went willingly, eagerly.

The kiss started chaste. He honestly wasn’t expecting more than a quick goodnight kiss, because it was getting late and he knew Natasha had a morning lesson. She moved closer and pressed her tongue against his lips, he opened his mouth to her and now the kiss curled his toes and sent blood rushing to his dick. He fumbled to unlatch his seatbelt, then shoved his seat back as far as it would go. He wrapped an arm around her and helped her over the console to straddle his lap. Natasha gasped against his mouth when he pulled her down against his growing erection. She tugged her dress up around her waist and ground down against him. Clint saw stars.

“Jesus, Tasha,” he groaned.

He kissed her again, sliding his tongue along hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed tighter against him, crushing her breasts to his chest. He slid a hand down her side and gripped her hip. One hand burrowed into her hair and tipped her head back so he could mouth at her neck.

She ground down against him again and he nipped just below her ear, causing her to let out a needy little gasp. He caressed her thigh and slid his hand around to palm her ass. She moaned in his ear and sucked on the lobe, worrying it with her teeth. The sensation went straight to his cock, already hard against his jeans. She rolled her hips into him and her breathing quickened. Natasha scooted back a fraction and fumbled for the hand on her ass. She gripped it hard and brought it to her lips, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his palm before sucking his thumb into her mouth. His hips jerked against her.

“Oh, god,” Clint breathed.

She was going to kill him. She swirled her tongue around his thumb a couple of times, scraped her teeth along the pad, and then released it. Still holding his hand in hers, she dragged it slowly down her body, across her breast and down between her thighs, pressing it against her soaked panties. They both gasped at the contact.

“Clint,” she moaned, desperate. “Please touch me.”

Clint sucked in a deep breath and cupped her, she was so very wet. Natasha was biting her lower lip and rocking against his hand. She met his gaze and he could see in her eyes how much she wanted him. He’d fantasized about her like this and the reality was so much better than anything he’d imagined.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” he asked, voice full of want. She whimpered and nodded, never breaking eye contact with him. He pushed her panties aside and stroked a finger along her pussy, amazed that this was actually happening. He dipped his fingers past her labia and stroked again, finding her clit and swirling around it, over and over as her breath came faster. After several long moments he slid his hand down and plunged two fingers inside her, she was so soft and wet and warm.

“Oh!” she cried out and tightened down on him.

He gave her a moment and then started fucking his fingers in and out of her, occasionally rubbing her clit with the heel of his hand. Her eyes closed and her head dropped back as she started panting.

“Yes, yes,” she cried and fondled her breast with one hand.

He was getting uncomfortably hard in his jeans, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her, watching her approach climax was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The hand she still had at the back of his neck fisted in his hair and he felt her thighs tighten.

“Oh, god!” she sobbed and then she was coming hard around his fingers.

Clint gently continued pumping in and out of her, hoping to draw out her pleasure as long as he could. As her orgasm tapered off, Natasha collapsed against him, nuzzling her face into his neck. He felt the light press of her lips against his skin and smiled into her hair. He took a deep breath and tried to get control of his libido.

Natasha wasn’t helping as he felt her lick up his neck to his ear. Her lips were soft and warm, her voice low and seductive as she whispered to him. “Let’s go inside.”

“ _God, yes_.”

********** 

As soon as they were inside, Clint pressed Natasha up against the door, kissing her frantically and kneading her ass. She had his shirt unbuttoned and raked her nails lightly down his chest, flicking his nipples before she pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He reluctantly took his hands off her so he could shrug it off completely and toss it behind him.

Natasha unzipped her dress and shimmied out of it, letting it fall to pool around her feet. Clint was struck dumb at the sight of her standing there, deliciously debauched in a sinfully lacy black bra and panties. Her breasts heaved as she breathed. She reached up to unhook the front clasp of the bra, but he took her hand, stopping her.

“Please,” he groaned. “Let me.”

She nodded and he pressed a hot kiss to her palm. He slowly traced a finger across the tops of her full breasts, along the edge of the lace. Goosebumps broke out over her skin and he trailed open mouthed kisses along the same path his finger had taken, occasionally taking quick licks of her soft skin. He buried his face between her breasts and she laughed when he opened her bra clasp with his teeth. Clint grinned at her as he slipped the straps off her shoulders and tossed the bra aside. His grin faltered, she was absolutely exquisite. He couldn’t believe he was here with her like this.

Natasha leaned up and kissed him softly.

“I want you,” she murmured against his lips.

She ran her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, to the nape of his neck and lightly pulled his head down, closer to her breast. Clint took the hint and she cried out as he sucked a peaked nipple into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around it while he fondled her other breast with his hand, plucking at her nipple. She was running her hands through his hair and making pleased little whimpers. He was quickly becoming addicted to the sound and taste of her.

“I wanna go down on you,” he groaned against her skin, “I wanna taste you as you come.”

She gasped and arched against him before fisting a hand in his hair and tugging him away from her breast. Her gaze locked with his and he thought he saw a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He didn’t know what she was searching for, but she must have found it.

“I haven’t … before,” she said and licked her lips. “But, _oh god_ , I want your mouth on me.”

Her words caused something possessive to rise up in him, knowing he’d be the first to pleasure her like that. He kissed her again, deeply, and tried to convey how much it meant that she trusted him to do this for her. He trailed kisses along her jaw to her ear, licked along the shell, and whispered a husky ‘thank you’.

Clint then kissed and licked a line down her neck, across her collarbone, and between her breasts before dropping to his knees and mouthing at her belly button. He could smell the musky scent of her arousal and had to palm himself through his jeans to relieve some of the ache in his dick. He glanced up at her and she was watching him, bottom lip caught between her teeth, hands braced against the door.

He slid a hand slowly up the inside of one thigh until he reached her panties. Keeping his eyes on hers, he rubbed her through the soaked material. She jerked against him and whimpered. Clint pulled the black lacy satin down her legs and helped her step out of them and her heels before tossing them aside. He placed a few quick kisses above her trimmed red hair before spreading her open. She adjusted her stance to allow him room to shoulder between her thighs.

“Fuck!” she cried out as he licked a long stripe along her pussy.

He licked at her again and again, closing his eyes and relishing her taste. She was making the most beautiful noises, long moans and sighs. He swirled his tongue around her clit a few times before wrapping his lips around it and sucking.

“Yes, yes, so good, Clint,” she moaned.

He couldn’t resist and looked back up at her. She had her head thrown back against the door, one hand still braced against it, the other flicking at her nipple and pulling at her breast. Oh so gently he scraped his teeth along her clit and sucked on it again. She wailed with pleasure. Clint dipped a finger inside her; she was so, so wet and hot.

“More,” she cried and he felt her hand tightly grip his hair.

He thrust two more fingers inside her and started pumping steadily in counter rhythm to his licking and swirling his tongue around her clit. He was painfully hard against his jeans but there was no way he was taking his mouth and hands off her until he’d tasted her climax. She was panting in earnest now and had started shallowly thrusting against his face. He felt her thighs tremble and she shouted his name as she came, her cunt clenching rhythmically around his fingers as a gush of fluid spilled out of her to soak his chin and chest. It was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, much less been a part of.

Natasha’s legs wobbled as she calmed and Clint steadied her as she sank down onto him, straddling his legs. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He stroked his hands up and down her back, trying to keep his mind off his dick until she recovered. He pulled the pins from her hair and rubbed her scalp before combing his fingers through the long red strands. Some moments later, she raised her head to look at him. Her eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were flushed. He felt an enormous sense of pride that he’d made her come like that, brought her that kind of intense satisfaction.

She brought her hands to his face and pulled him to her, kissing him deeply and he knew she could taste herself in the kiss. She groaned and the kiss intensified even further. Clint grabbed her hips hard enough he feared he might leave bruises, but she just groaned again. He pulled her down hard onto his erection and thrust up against her. She broke the kiss and scrambled off his lap.

“What ...” he protested and unsuccessfully reached for her.

She grabbed the small purse that had been dropped as soon as they’d slammed the door and scooted back over to him. She fumbled in the bag and pulled out a strip of condoms before practically attacking the button fly on his jeans.

Clint took her hands and stopped her.

“Easy,” he said.

“I want you, Clint.” She looked at him and he could see it in her eyes. “I want you to fuck me, right now.”

Her words made him shudder and he rushed to get his shoes, socks, jeans and briefs off. When he was finally naked, he reached for her and she came to him eagerly. She ran her hands through his hair and kissed him, sucking on his tongue. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly to him, pressing them together from chest to knee as they knelt on the floor. His dick was hot against her belly and he couldn’t help but rub himself on her. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head when she snaked a hand down between their bodies and wrapped it around his cock. She pumped him a couple of times and he broke the kiss to hiss out harshly, “Fuck that feels good, Tasha.”

She gave one final, lingering pump before leaning back from him to reach for a condom. Clint gently stroked her hips as she tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on. She kissed him again, filthily, and pulled him down with her as she lay back on the floor. He braced himself over her and settled between her thighs. He wanted to burn this image of her into his brain: her red hair spilled across the floor around her head, her cheeks flushed, full lower lip between her teeth, and her green eyes gazing up at him, full of desire … for him.

Natasha ran her hands up his arms, gripped his biceps, and tugged him down to her. He went to one elbow and took himself in hand to rub the head of his cock along her pussy and around her clit. She moaned loudly and dug her nails into him. He didn’t tease her much longer, he was too eager to be inside her. He dragged himself down the length of her one more time before lining up with her cunt and slipping just the head of his cock inside. He met her eyes, still a little incredulous that they were here like this.

“Yes, Clint, yes,” she whispered, reassuring him.

He leaned down to kiss her as he slid into her in one long, slow, deliciously wet glide. He thought he might come just from that sensation and her resulting moan; he had to pause to get control of himself.

“God, Tasha,” he groaned against her mouth. “You feel so good.”

She smiled up at him, the pleasure and desire in her eyes made his heart clench and warmth spread through him. She wrapped her legs around his hips and shifted against him, encouraging him to move. He slid out of her tight heat and thrust back in, hard, causing her to gasp. They quickly found a rhythm that worked for them both, long slides out and hard, deep thrusts back. Natasha moved against him, countering his thrusts with her own. She dragged her nails down his back, almost to the point of pain. Pleasure was growing and curling in his belly and his rhythm faltered.

“Faster, Clint,” she cried and he speed up, trusting her to tell him what she needed. He was drowning in ecstasy. He fumbled for one of her hands and grasped it tightly, lacing their fingers together to ground him. He so wanted to hold out long enough to make her come again, but knew he was fast approaching his own climax. He felt her thighs start to tremble and adjusted his angle to try and drag against her clit with each thrust.

She cried out again and tightened her grip on his hand. “I’m close Clint, so close,” she moaned.

Suddenly she arched against him, her nails dug into his shoulder and she keened long and loud. He thrust hard into her and then held himself still, relishing in the feel of her cunt spasming around him as she climaxed. Clint couldn’t hold still for long though and started pumping into her in earnest, chasing his own orgasm. Natasha was gazing up at him, sated bliss simply radiating from her.

“I want to feel you come, Clint,” she whispered to him.

“Jesus, Tasha,” he moaned.

He thrust once, twice, three more times and was lost to his orgasm. He was pretty sure he shouted her name as he came, as intense pleasure flooded through him. His arms started to shake and he eased himself down onto her, pressing his face into her shoulder. Their hands were still clasped, she was running her other one through his hair and he could feel her humming contentedly.

After a long, quiet moment, he rolled them over so Natasha was sprawled across his chest. She tucked her head under his chin and her breath was warm on his skin. They were both breathing heavily. He ran his hands up and down her back; he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her.

Something caught his eye and he turned to the back of the house. Through the legs of Natasha’s small bistro dining table, he could see Atlas and Lucky sitting outside the sliding glass door, staring at them. Clint chuckled and Natasha turned to see what had amused him.

“I feel like they should be holding up score cards,” he said, still chuckling.

“Well, you get a 9.5 from the Russian,” she said and kissed him lightly.

“Only a 9.5?” He pouted a little and pinched her ass. She squirmed deliciously against him.

“I think there’s always room for improvement. But that thing with your tongue? That was _amazing_. Definitely gold medal material.”

**********

Clint woke the next morning to the feel of something running down his back and over his ass. A sharp pinch to his left cheek brought him fully awake.

“Hey!” he cried. He rolled over and saw Natasha sitting on the side of the bed. She was wearing his shirt, mostly unbuttoned, and he could see she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She shrieked with laughter when he grabbed her around the waist, pulled her down onto the bed, and rolled her underneath him. Her laughter turned into a loud gasp when he nipped the sensitive spot he’d discovered below her ear.

They’d had a wonderful night together. After cleaning up from the mind blowing sex in her entryway, they’d taken a couple of bottles of beer out on the back patio to enjoy around the fire pit. He’d tugged her into his lap and after some heavy making out, she’d pulled another condom from her pocket and showed off her flexibility by riding him until they both came. They’d gone another round when the sun had been just starting to peek in the window of her room. He’d never forget the look of her bathed in the early morning light, relaxed and sated.

“Oh, that feels nice,” she said, interrupting his thoughts, and hummed with pleasure. “I wish we had time for more, but I have a lesson this morning.”

“Ugh,” Clint groaned and pressed his face into her neck. She ran her hands up and down his back, lightly scraping her nails along his skin. He shivered.

“I kept my afternoon free,” she said, “so we can meet up with Sam later at the park.”

Clint raised his head and gave her a quick kiss.

“And tonight?” he asked. He mentally crossed his fingers that she didn’t have plans and would want to spend the night with him again.

“I was hoping you’d come over again,” she replied with a grin. “You know, so Lucky and Atlas can have a play date.”

**********

Clint was outside the firehouse washing down one of the trucks with Odinson and Rumlow when Natasha’s Jeep pulled up. He met her at the door as she got out and reached up to give him a quick hug.

“You got a minute?” she asked, leaving her hands at his waist.

“Sure,” he said and ran a hand down over her ass, out of view of the guys. “We’re just doing some cleaning and minor equipment repairs.”

She pulled him around to the back of the Jeep and opened the rear door. There was a small pet carrier in the cargo area and it was emitting unhappy little meows.

“Hey, kitty,” he said as he leaned down and looked into the carrier. The small black cat glared at him but didn’t hiss or spit. “I forgot you were getting her back today.”

“Yes. She has all her shots and Bruce spayed her when he dug those BBs out of her.”

It still angered him when he thought about how they’d found the cat, bloody and weak. He couldn’t understand how anyone could be so cruel to an animal.

“Have you thought of a name for her yet?” he asked.

“Liho. Russian for ‘misfortune,’” she replied with a grin.

“That’s … strangely appropriate for her,” he said and looked back into the carrier. “Hey, Liho.”

The cat turned her back and ignored him.

“You need to come over tonight so Lucky can see her, since he’s fallen in love with her,” Natasha teased.

“Just so Lucky can see her, huh?” He grinned at her and she nodded. “I think Lucky would like that.”

Clint took a quick look over his shoulder to see if Odinson and Rumlow were still watching and then decided he didn’t care. He pressed her up against the Jeep, slowly enough that she could stop him if she wanted. Her eyes sparkled and she smirked at him right before he kissed her.

He ignored the wolf whistles behind him.

**********

Six months later:

Clint carefully juggled the three puppies in his arms as he entered the cottage and closed the door behind him.

“Hey, Nat,” he called. “I have a surprise for you.”

Natasha was standing in their kitchen, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

“For me, huh?” she asked, skepticism dripping from the words. Atlas was sitting next to her, a remarkably stern look on her face. She huffed and walked over to her bed, lying down with her back to Clint and the puppies.

“Well, maybe not just for you,” he admitted as Lucky came rushing over to him, dancing with excitement.

“Lucky, sit,” Clint told him and he promptly sat down though he didn’t stop wiggling.

Clint squatted down and held the puppies out for him to sniff. “Be gentle, boy.”

Lucky sniffed and licked the chubby little balls of fur. Liho came over and rubbed against Clint’s leg before cautiously sniffing one of the pups. It quickly licked her and the look of disgust on the cat’s face made Clint laugh. She stalked over to Atlas and lay down with the big dog, tucking herself in and glaring balefully at Clint, Lucky, and the new interlopers.

Clint set the squirming puppies on the floor and Lucky lay down to get closer to them. They immediately started crawling over to him.

“He’s practically cooing,” Natasha said, chuckling as Lucky let the puppies nip at his ears and lick his nose. Atlas still had her back to the other dogs and Liho had quit glaring, opting instead to nap.

“Steve twisted your arm again,” Natasha sighed as Clint came up to her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

He picked up one of her hands and pressed a quick kiss to its palm before putting her arm around his neck. Then he quickly kissed the little scowl on her lips and tried to look contrite.

“I’ll admit, there wasn’t much twisting involved.” He leaned down and pressed an open mouthed kiss just underneath her ear where he knew she was sensitive. He trailed a line of kisses and tender nips along her neck and collarbone. “Can we foster them? Please?”

Natasha gently tugged his head back and smiled at him. “You know I wouldn’t turn them away.”

“I know,” he said with a lecherous grin, “but let me persuade you anyway.” 

**********

_Running, running, running, falling, falling. A wet tongue licked at the back of his neck. Natasha’s hands were warm on his shoulders as she rolled him over and kissed him. Her laughter rang in his ears. It filled him with warmth and happiness. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her against him. The dogs barked and danced around the two of them as he buried his hands in her fiery hair and kissed her again and again and again …_

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thanks to [Frea_O](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O/pseuds/Frea_O) (freaoscanlin on tumblr) for letting me use T. C. Hawke and his novel from her fic [ The Woman in the Crosshairs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/545180). Check it out if you haven’t already – it’s amazing.


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